


Ave Maria

by janada_bear



Series: Bat Family FlimFlam [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batdad, Bruce trying to be not awks with his kid, Family, Fluff, Short, and sometimes it works out okay, bc I'm not a writer but I still have feels, but he tries, failing, kind of sad, like super, really corny tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-15 03:48:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8041372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janada_bear/pseuds/janada_bear
Summary: Damian is sometimes insecure about his father's feelings towards him.





	Ave Maria

**Author's Note:**

> They may or may not be superheroes here. I don't think they are, but I guess it could be either one here.
> 
> I enjoy music, especially slow songs with many feelings. I'm not a musician, so apologies in advance if it's awkward here. I used to play cello, but never violin. Violin seems so suitable for Damian though. Something small before I dive into the cesspool of school work once again.

Applause filled the auditorium as the echoes of last note to Ave Maria faded. Damian removed the violin from his shoulder. After a mandatory 3 second bow, he looked up, hopeful. Maybe he would be here today, maybe… Damian briskly walked off the stage away from the view of the audience and the adjudicators furiously talking into their respective microphones.

He wasn’t. He told himself he wouldn’t get upset. Rubbing his stinging eyes with the sleeve of his tuxedo suit - a result of the dust from backstage irritating his eyes - he made his way to the dressing room. This wasn’t an issue, no. His father was a busy man, and today’s concert may have been important right now, but in the long run, it was only one of many.

Loosening the strings of his bow by twisting the knob at the end, he set it down in his black violin case, the bow fitting snuggly into the molded plush velvet cushioning inside. He stroked back of his violin in momentary contemplation; the maple wood had a beautiful, rich cherry finish that shone even in the dim lighting of backstage. As with the bow, Damian placed it in its respective location before shutting the case. An Italian make - not a Stradivarius, of course, but of comparable quality, Damian was more than pleased with. It was one of the first gifts Father had given to him.

 

* * *

 

Clap, clap. Damian’s breath hitched. He hadn’t realized someone had entered the room.“Schubert?”

Damian carefully got off the piano bench and turned to his Father. It had only been three weeks since they’d met. Father (or Bruce? Damian was uncertain now) had been mostly absent. He suspected that the man was avoiding him. The news of his existence had not been received too well, after all, and the relationship between his parents was at best strained at the moment.

“Yes… Ave Maria.”

Bruce nodded. “An excellent piece, yes. Simpler than the rest, but room for much… emotional expression.”

It was Damian’s turn to nod. Was his father a fan too? “Yes, but I love the singing more than anything else. I can’t do it myself, but with a violin, the sound is almost as lovely.” He stopped. His father looked at him rather wide-eyed. Confusion? Anger? Had he made a mistake? He couldn't tell with this man, this stranger. He tried to rectify the situation. “I shouldn’t have gotten so… excitable. My apologies.”

There was that look again. Damian looked down and away from the gaze. Heavy steps made their way towards him. Was he going to scold him? Perhaps walk past him again, as he had before (his heart clenched; he’d prefer the former). His conception and what he represented to his father was no secret to him (a dreamless night of passion and ambiguous consent).

The touch of a large hand on his shoulder surprised him. A sensation of heat which could be felt through his cotton t-shirt followed. “Damian.” Damian looked up into his father’s blue eyes (ones he had not inherited). They were soft, weren’t they? Not hard, nor angry, right? (In his ear, he could feel the pounding of his heart).

The man looked uncertain and uncomfortable. Eventually, he slowly pulled the boy into an awkward half-embrace, causing Damian to feel an unfamiliar stinging his eyes.

Damian had found the violin at his bedside a week later, following his father’s trip from Europe. They did not speak of it ever, and Damian continued to make use of the Manor’s practice room to his leisure.

 

* * *

  

Damian picked up his case and walked back out into the reception area. Caring little for the results of the competition, he had arranged for Pennyworth to pick him up around the estimated finish time for his performance. Audience members were slowly filing out of the doorways for intermission. A few greeted him to congratulate him for his performance. Damian never did have a sociable persona like his father, but he did his best to appease the interested guests without offending. Soon the intermission was nearing its end, and the reception area was becoming empty once again. He made his way up a staircase leading to one of the entrances to the auditorium and leaned against the railings facing a glass window, his violin case just a step below him. Looking out the window, he gazed at the busy street only a story below - winter chill was settling in Gotham, and people were wrapped in thick scarves and wool coats as they found their way. Sighing, he slumped onto his arms and focused on his reflection. He’d been told he was a near perfect copy of his father when he was a child. Damian had yet to see any pictures to confirm this, but he was somewhat comforted by the words knowing that he was, at least, undeniably his father’s child. He closed his eyes. _Where was Pennyworth? The man was taking forever…_ Confident that everyone else was gone, with the exception of the workers cleaning a little ways down, he hummed quietly to himself.

_‘Da uns dein heil'ger Trost anweht;_

_Der Jungfrau wolle hold dich neigen,_

_Dem Kind, das für den Vater fleht…’_

 

“Schubert?”

Damian’s eyes snapped open. His reflection was no longer alone. Towering over him was his father, a bemused smile on his face, dressed to the nines in an outfit similar to Damian’s. He held in his hand an ornate bouquet of flowers. In the other, he held a stuffed Robin toy. Father knelt down to Damian’s height still smiling and held out the toy. Damian took the Robin from his hand, finding that it was as soft as it looked.

“Ave Maria by Schubert, yes.”

Setting down the flowers, his father began to fix a white carnation plucked from the bouquet onto the lapel of Damian’s suit. “An excellent piece… Simpler than the rest, but room for much emotional expression.” Finished, he picked up the bouquet again and placed it into Damian’s hands. “I love the singing, but the violin sounds just as beautiful, don’t you think Damian?” (his heart clenched) Damian felt the warmth of his father’s palms on his shoulders, and shortly after, the warmth of his Father’s breath on his head as a kiss was gently pressed against his forehead (his heart swelled).

No… His father was not a cold man, but one with many walls (almost as many as him). Acts of love were few, rarely verbal, but they were there, even for Damian (he held the Robin closer).

**Author's Note:**

> Ave Maria is a pretty religious song. It has themes of motherhood in it, and stuff about fathers (okay, well the father in the sky to some) in it that makes me think of Damian for some reason. I won't explain any further, I just kind of relate the feeling of the song to him sometimes. (super cheesy, ew I know, I'm sorry)
> 
> Recitals/concerts are pretty important when you're a kid, I think, so I wanted to do something about Damian + recitals. I wish my father could have gone to at least one of mine. I wrote this thinking about a concert hall I went to in the winter to watch the Nutcracker as a kid. It was the first one I went to in the big city... Real different from the town I grew up in.


End file.
